The internet has revolutionized the way we live, work, and interact, bringing about unprecedented connectivity and opportunities for growth and development. It helps people connect with friends, family, and communities globally, and fosters relationships and support networks. It empowers individuals to express themselves, to share their ideas, and advocate for causes they believe in.

That was the dream. Incidentally that was the dream of television, too. The reality for both is far different than the “for the public good” utopia the founders of these media imagined. In 1961 then-FCC Chairman Newton Minow said “When television is good, nothing—not the theater, not the magazines or newspapers—nothing is better. But when television is bad, nothing is worse.” He invited the public to challenge his perception by sitting down to watch a full day of television with no distractions.

“I can assure you,” he said, “that what you will observe is a vast wasteland.”

Minow’s prediction of the result could easily be applied to a person sitting down in front of a social media feed, or scrolling the apps on their phone today – the only thing missing in his mentions is the tsunami of inane content created by individuals consisting of dancing, singing, complaining, criticizing and selfies, none of which substantially changes Minow’s summary judgement:

“You will see a procession of game shows, formula comedies about totally unbelievable families, blood and thunder, mayhem, violence, sadism, murder, western bad men, western good men, private eyes, gangsters, more violence, and cartoons. And endlessly, commercials—many screaming, cajoling, and offending. And most of all, boredom. True, you’ll see a few things you will enjoy. But they will be very, very few.”

In the early days of the internet I belonged to a community called Open Salon. It was a community of writers, readers, artists, musicians, activists and deep thinkers who enjoyed discussion. Participants could create posts, which might be selected by editors to be featured on the homepage of the site, or just participate by reading and commenting. Many friendships were formed, and many of those friendships moved offline to the real world. We had Open Salon meetups in Las Vegas and New Orleans and Austin. We celebrated birthdays, supported each other through illnesses and divorce, and grieved each others’ losses, which inevitably included members of the OS community. 

It was a magical time, and almost all of my current social media friends are people from this era, who moved over to Facebook when the quality of the Open Salon site took a precipitous downturn, overrun by trolls more interested in picking fights than having discussions. The site became so politicized I left it without a glance back, and breathed a sigh of relief when it was finally shuttered, like an old family home that has long been a crack house finally being demolished.

Many of my Open Salon friends are marvelous writers, like Steven Axelrod, Nikki Stern, Lorraine Berry and Lisa Solod, all of whom are published authors of well-reviewed books and articles (I’m definitely leaving out some really good writers and I hope they don’t get mad at me for the omission). There were famous people at Open Salon – Dave Cullen is the bestselling author of Columbine and Parkland and his latest, the highly anticipated Soldiers First; Bob Eckstein is a NY Times cartoonist – Steve Martin reviewed him! (“A joyous book.”) As a co-writer for the movies Blue Streak and Short Time, John Blumenthal was already famous before Open Salon; the writer of the column that was the basis of the film Julie and Julia found her way to fame on her Open Salon blog. Cary Tennis had a well-read advice column over at Salon called Since you Asked (now on Substack) and deigned to hang around with us over at Open Salon. The Open Salon editors were and are also famous, Joan Walsh appearing regularly as an analyst on MSNBC and other mainstream media news programs, Kerry Lauerman with bylines at The Washington Post and Forbes.

Just as important, the site was full of great readers; after all, writers need an audience, and Open Salon attracted one that was well-read and able to deliver feedback that was useful as well as (usually) kind and always fair. It was a wonderful place, a real wonderland for writers even if it only existed online, and for a short time.

There aren’t a lot of stories like Open Salon on the internet anymore – like television, the internet has become a place overrun with mediocre-to-crappy content and endless advertisers, as well as troll-snipers hovering behind the cover of anonymity. Craigslist comes to mind; although it is available in most major cities, it is a very different site in San Francisco than other places. In San Francisco you could use CL to score some free furniture, find a roommate, find a vegan bi-sexual lover with piercings, find someone to smoke a joint with and watch Blazing Saddles, find a job. I used the site to find an apartment more than once, and to find running buddies – having just moved to San Francisco, I didn’t know anyone and didn’t know the best places to run. Today, more than two decades later I still count those running buddies among my closest friends.

Craigslist changed, of course; it also became a place you could find your killer, if you aren’t careful. I never heard of anyone being harmed by someone in the Open Salon community, but there were plenty of threats. I once posted an essay on my irritation at the term MILF and received rape and death threats in my inbox. But for a long time, the good far outweighed the bad. When my husband and I went to Washington DC for the Obama inauguration, we stayed with an Open Salon friend, who invited me to one of the inaugural balls being held that evening, an amazing experience. I’ve had more than a dozen Open Salon friends visit or stay with me when I lived in San Francisco; now that I’m in Portugal, I hope to host an Open Salon meetup once my husband and I have completed a vast slate of renovations (target: fall 2025) on this formerly abandoned property. We figure we can comfortably sleep 32 people. It wasn’t the reason we settled on this property – my husband has 8 siblings, I have 3, and between the two of us we have large extended families that we hope will make good use of this place. But bringing my Open Salon family together was certainly on my mind at the closing.

I often hear people refer to people they meet online as “internet friends” as if that is somehow different than real friends. I believe you can have a close relationship with someone without meeting them, and have always considered my online friends to be ‘real’, whether or not we’ve met in person. Certainly the grief I’ve felt at the loss of friends I’ve known only online is every bit as real as the grief I’ve felt at the news of childhood friends or work colleagues passing away.

I think about Elizabeth all the time – I deeply regret she was not one of the OSers (as we call ourselves) that I got to meet in person. I once called Matt, because he’d been in the hospital, and then worried that I’d overstepped, until a short time later his daughter posted on his feed that he had passed away, and thanked me for reaching out, mentioning how tickled he’d been – then I was sorry I had not followed up with him. I did not learn of Neal’s death until well after, and still feel stunned – he was so young, my mind insists. I can still picture him the way he looked the day we met at my hotel when I was passing through Chicago. How I loved his writing. David’s goofy humor was a mainstay of my day – and then one day he posted about his recent diagnosis with a picture of himself woefully thin…and then just like that he was gone. When I read of the death of Deven’s husband, I actually cried aloud in shock, and my husband came running down the steps to see what was wrong. He died, I said, pointing at the screen. He read the post announcing her loss and hugged me, and did not chide me for weeping over someone I had never met, married to someone I had never met.

I had a similar reaction this past week when one of my favorite OSers posted a request for prayers for her husband, who had a heart attack and was unconscious. But he just retired, I cried to my husband, who held my hand as I wept and reminded me, That’s why you can’t let anything stress you, you just never know what life has in store. I have found myself thinking of Victor constantly, a man who could not pick me out of a lineup, asking the universe for yet another favor. I know that there are dozens of former OSers, thinking of him right this second.

I know my husband is right about not knowing what life has in store – anyway I don’t need his reminder, I have my own. At 60, I do not feel old in body but I sometimes feel it in mind when I count all the friends taken far too soon – Karen was 45, Alex 45, Olaf 49, and my dear ex husband just 54. Sadness and worry for someone you know online is not that different from sadness and worry for someone you’ve known in person but are now separated by years or distance – it may be a bit more echoey than grief for someone you know and see on a daily intimate basis, but it’s no less real. The emotions I feel for my online friends at the news of their illnesses, losses, worry and grief are potent reminders to live my life presently, without anxiety and fear for what might be, without expectations of how things ‘should be’ or judgements on whether things are good, or bad. Everything just is; I can accept it or not, but worry and anxiety won’t change things.

Life is not long; as we get older it is often difficult, and much of it we cannot control, so it’s best to enjoy every day to the fullest possible, no matter what your secret worries may be. Notice beauty, extend kindness, stay in touch with the ones you love. Work at things you believe in and that interest you; it’s way more satisfying to make a little money at something you love, than a lot of money at something you hate (also: money made unhappily has a way of disappearing faster, I think). This can sound super trite to people with real financial struggles – I know, I’ve been there, and recently. If there is anything I could go back and change about those difficult times, it would be to worry less, and choose happiness despite the problems I was experiencing. Maybe it wouldn’t have solved my difficulties any faster, but it certainly would have been more pleasant.

I don’t know where I’m going with this post – just a virtual toast, I guess, to all the virtual friends who are real to me, and who have really been there for me when it counts, and for whom I hope to really be there for, as well, whether we see or know each other in real life or only know each other in wonderland. Cheers, my friends – may we meet again! Or not, as the case may be.

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